


Little House

by TheSheep64



Series: Little prairie [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Moving In Together, Murder, Other, Possessed house, Possessed land, Prairie, then killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:42:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSheep64/pseuds/TheSheep64
Summary: A House on a Prairie that should have been left alone.





	Little House

**Author's Note:**

> I also posted this on tumblr and will be posting more on this series so be patient if you like this

The crickets chirp as the moon shines in the sky, prairie grass swaying as a breeze pulls through it.

A long dirt road splits the prairie in two, like a scar on an otherwise unmarked body

And like a freckle on that body lays a small home. No more than two floor let with it's paint peeling of off. A lone rocking chair sat on the porch, crumbling under its own and weight.

The house hasn't had anyone in it for so long, it stood forgotten in the prairie. Decay slowing taking it from it's once glorious beginning.

It stood there, rotting, decaying, empty. Until one day, it was not.

000

“I cannot express on a physical level how much I don't wanna live here.”

Two lovers, let's call them Mark and Clover, stands in front of the dying house. Eyeing the broken windows and rotting chair. It's Mark, the taller of the two, who made the comment, grimaces

“Come on, it not too bad. Nothing but a pinch of paint and several days of redoing can't fix,” Clover, sent a look towards his taller lover. “I know it's...in poor help but that doesn't me we can have a cheery disposition about this! We have our own place!” They made a grand gesture, arms splaying wide and spins in a tight circle. “And look at all this space! No one for miles! No city lights to block out the night sky!”

They both look up toward the bright blue sky, small clouds fluttering through it. Marks grimace slowly lost it's spite, closing his eyes to the breeze.

“Fine, but we're not sleeping in that thing. It's not habitable yet.” Mark grabs his lovers hand, ignoring the protests as he drags them back to the car.

Clover grumbles as they're climb into the pick up, leaning forward to look at the house as Mark climbs in.

Mark starts the car and begins to pull away. “The construction will begin tomorrow. We'll be in town getting to know everyone.” Mark praddles on his whole 'know the small town’ plan as Clover watches their new house, their new home, grow smaller as they drive away.

000

The once quiet prairie was now bustling with noise, tall grass was now trampled and destroyed as workers renovated the home. It bends and groans, annoyed and unhappy with the hands touching and breaking it down. Adding new, taking away the old. Soon, a few months, the house was refurbished. It's porch glossing in the summer sun, paint now a Ruby red with white trimmings.

The house now stood proud, with the help of the new foundations. But it still has the aura of displeasure and sadness. It knew what will come to its new attendees.

If only they were the ones.

000

Clover stands in their new home, workers have all gone home and they had just finished decorating. Peeping passed the living room carpet, their glance outside taking in the prairie scene before looking at the porch. It's wood stood glamorously out there, fresh cut. It also has a brand new rocking chair at its front, much to the insistence of Clover.

'Let's get it a new one! The house gotta be attached to having something in its porch.’

And so they did, and here they are. Standing in the living room, admiring their new home as Mark walks into the kitchen.

Done looking out the window Clover flourishes across the room, doing a little dance, before lounging on the couch breathing heavily from the days activities.

'A small nap never hurt,’ was their last fleeting thought before their eyes close for the last time

000

Mark was in the kitchen, clutching his head. Leaning against the kitchen sink, his own legs not trusted you keep him up. Brow slick with perspiration, thought swirling out of control. 

'They brought us here. Dirt back town. Nothing for miles. Should have ended it. Kelly fucking Michel now. It could have been you. Could have been you. You. You. You.’

Grinding his teeth, Mark lifts his head. Eyes glazed over and the whites red with irritation, he stumbles his way back into the living room. Panting, he grips the threshold looking in.

He sees them. His bane. His tragedy. Laying there, face soft and relax, breathing deep and calm.

He hates them.

Hates them for dragging him here, demanding that they move from his comfortable apartment. Away from all he knows. Away from her. He could feel his teeth groaning under the pressure as he grinds them. He wants something, something. What is it. What-

‘Take their breath away’

Mark starts, the voices that bombarded him earlier were now back. Quieter than before. He'd almost miss it if it wasn't for the dead silence.

'Take their breath away.’

There it was again, with more force this time. He continues to stare as the voices grow in volume. His eyes slowing traveling down Clover’s facs, to their neck.

Mark blinks, focusing on his breathing. When he opens his eyes they widen in shock.

Somehow, without him realizing, he made his way in front of Clover. He notices how peaceful they truly look.

He sneers.

'Why should they be peaceful. What aren't they miserable like me?! Can't they not hear the voices. They're so loud and and almost familiar. So familiar. Why won't they wake up.’

Marks breathing turns back into a pant, hands at his sides now turning into fist. Face flushing in anger.

It was almost instinct when he wraps his hands around Clover’s neck and squeezes.

He doesn't notice when they wake up and begins to struggle.

He take no note of their breathless cries.

He just stares blankly into brown eyes as they slowly lose their shine growing dull as the struggling slows. And it finally stops.

Mark doesn't understand at first. Grip loosening. He watches as Clover slumps to their side. Mouth slightly open and eyes, oh their eyes. Eyes that held stars and dreams and a deep yearning whenever they meet Mark's. They now stare dull and empty.

Mark scrambles from their lap, when had he gotten there, and stares. Breathing picking up, but now with panic and not the earlier anger. The voices are silent now, gone just like them. Just like-

Mark chokes, falling to his knee. He sobs hard. Long, and hard into his hands. Fingers gripping the ends of his face.

He doesn't know how long he sat there, sobbing into his hands. He couldn't bring himself to get up, to get ahold of himself, to look at what he done.

No one for miles, along with his death loved, Mark did what was only logical to do next

000

A house stands empty on the prairie. Big and newly done. It's old occupants have been gone for a while now. It remembers when it felt their two souls intertwined rise out of it. And even though their bodies now lay rotting in it's basement, it is loney once more.

A house stands empty on the prairie, waiting for someone to enter.


End file.
